HACKS AND HUNTERS.
I am wonderfully fond of a good hack, and very wroth at times that
ladies will persist in mistaking the meaning of the term, and in
thinking that it signifies something that is meant to be abused. They
take this idea, I have no doubt, from expressions associated with their
childhood: hacking out their clothes, for instance,--in other words,
abusing them. “Don’t throw it away, it will do very well for a hack,”
meaning for very hard usage on second or third-rate occasions. Such
a thing as a _valuable_ hack, one not on any account to be subjected
to rough treatment, they have never believed in, or, indeed, thought
about at all. I was once bemoaning the loss of a favourite of this
description to a lady acquaintance, and although she pretended to
sympathise with me, I heard her, when I turned my back, say, “What a
fuss over a thing that had _come_ to being a hack! Not worth fourpence,
most likely.”
Now, it is for ladies who do not know much about hacks, yet who want
to learn, that I am writing this chapter. The subject is a very useful
one, and might be readily enlarged upon, but I shall be as concise as
possible.
Hacks in the olden days were capable of immense hardship; the
distances they travelled, the weights they carried, the amount of
endurance they displayed, would be deemed marvellous in the present
century, and cruel if put to the test. Such animals--and they are very
rare--are only now to be met with in the stables of stirring farmers
of the wealthy class, who go over their lands before breakfast, and
overlook hundreds of acres on the backs of these useful creatures.
Occasionally, too, they are to be found with country doctors,
well-to-do parsons, and others whose daily work cannot be accomplished
on animals less enduring or strong; but the ordinary seeker looks for
them almost in vain.
A good hack is a most trustworthy companion. His rider may drop the
reins to him on the very worst roads, and yet feel certain that he will
put his feet in precisely the right places, and make no mistakes. His
fore-feet are always well formed, and whatever the pace may be they
fall straight, and flat, and even upon the ground. His action when
trotting is from the shoulders, his fore-legs working strictly from
them, and just sufficiently bent to enable the rider to see his knees
as they are raised, but not to see under them. Chin-knocking action
may do for a park hack, but not for a roadster; indeed, I don’t admire
it myself in any class of horse, but in a covert-hack it is decidedly
objectionable. The wonder of my life is how so many extraordinary
goers, such as one sees throughout every hunting season, contrive to
jig along, or jog, or pound, as the case may be, without coming down
like logs upon the ground; but they do: just as drunken men, though
staggering, manage to get home without a fall.
The paces of a thoroughly good hack are characterised by perfect
regularity and ease; his shoulders are well set, sloping, and strong;
his feet well formed, his back somewhat short, his loins muscular, and
his hips wide. The shoulders at the withers are thick and firm--their
tops well back--and a good long space between the pommel of the saddle
and the termination of the mane.
Fore-leg action of the proper sort is an actual necessity in a hack
intended for a lady to ride, because the safety of the rider is
dependent upon it; but in selecting such an animal look to his hind-leg
action as well. If the hock joints do not, when moving, seem _pliable_,
and as though they were bent with perfect ease, bringing his hind
legs _well_ forward, reject him at once, no matter how good his front
action, or how perfect his forehand may appear.
[Illustration: HOCK--BENT.]
[Illustration: HOCK--TOO FAR BACK.]
Good hocks are clear, sharp, and well-defined in their outline, with
bones large and prominent, denoting a similar condition of the muscles.
When too much bent there is generally a liability to sprain, and when
placed very far back there is, as a rule, an absence of propelling
power. I like to see hocks in such a position as shows that they are
right under the centre of gravity. This always enables a horse to
propel himself with confidence, and to bring his hind-legs properly
under him in the trot--at which pace they should be carried as far
forward as they can well be, without hitting the fore-feet. An animal
that sticks his hind toes in the ground, and walks gingerly, as though
his hocks had not any joints, will never be safe or pleasant to ride.
If he possesses strength and evenness of hind-leg action, his paces
will always be agreeable. Good shoulder action and far-reaching hind
legs will ensure delightful ease and pleasure to the rider. Racehorses,
when trotting over turf, carry their hind feet far before the front
ones--and outside them too, as I have proved by footprints--although
some persons have flatly contradicted me about the matter.
[Illustration: HOCK--GOOD POSITION.]
I do not think that a covert hack ought to exceed fifteen hands in
height. He should walk with ease and freedom, trot ten miles an hour,
and canter fifteen, without any trouble, or blowing, or other symptoms
of distress. Of course he cannot do this if his lungs are not as
sound as bells, and his legs and feet perfectly healthy. I may say,
however, that exhibitions of _pace_ are perfectly unnecessary; nobody
really needs to gallop full tilt to covert--but light easy action,
and reliable powers of endurance, ought not to be lightly esteemed.
Beauty may be altogether dispensed with in the covert hack--although it
is generally so coveted that buyers will often ignore many important
defects on account of it. I don’t approve of this. I have seen most
excellent hacks who had coarse heads, blemished bodies, rat tails, and
other undeniably ugly attributes--but what mattered it, so long as they
had perfections of a more important kind? Such animals are not wanted
for show, as are their more gaudy brethren the park hacks.
I like to see the ribs of all riding-horses long in front of the
girths, and short behind them. This keeps the saddle in the proper
place, which it is hard to do (without the aid of the old-fashioned
crupper) where the ribs in front are short.
The race of genuine covert hacks is, I am sorry to say, apparently
fast dying out. Go, for instance, to any ordinary meet of hounds in
almost any hunting country--you will see votaries of the chase arriving
in every variety of vehicle: in phaetons, dogcarts, waggonettes, on
drags and in broughams, on the backs of horses that they mean to hunt,
on “general utility” animals, on fine park hacks, brought out to be
admired and then cantered home again along the roadside grasses, or
hand-galloped through the fields where convenient gates abound--but the
number of real covert hacks will be very small indeed. I suppose the
reason is, that in this troublous age, few (in Ireland at all events)
can afford to indulge in luxuries, and a good hack _is_ one, in the
very fullest sense of the term.
I do not believe, although many do, that it spoils a saddle horse to
put him in harness. Were I rich enough to possess a number of hunters,
I should drive them in a four-horse drag during the summer months, and
I believe it would do them an immensity of good. A covert hack of the
useful sort makes an excellent trapper, or one of a pair in a brougham
or waggonette--nor does he lose any of his saddle qualities by being so
made use of.
I may here say that, for country or covert riding, I do not at all
approve of the ordinary half-bred cobs, which so many sportsmen, and
some sporting ladies also, are prone to affect. No doubt they are
strong: it is their only recommendation; but even this very strength is
in one way an objection to them, for it is in many instances derived
from a close connection with cart-horse blood, and on this account they
very soon tire when trotting, and begin to step short, which occasions
them to trip, and very often to come down. Besides, it is almost a
matter of course that their shoulders are straight, and their fore-feet
carried too far under them. In every way, therefore, I object to these
animals for saddle use--especially where ladies are concerned.
Scarce as riding horses of endurance are in this country, there is
no doubt whatever that we have the breed, and that it only requires
careful cultivation--by which I mean _select_--in distant Colonies,
where our road and rail luxuries are not, for love or money, to be
obtained. In Southern Africa and distant Australia this has been
proved, as also in the crosses of our horses with Continental ones, in
Italy, Germany, and Spain.
I now come to speak about hunters. In choosing these, do not go in
for outward beauty of form, for it will not stand you in any stead.
I am compelled to impress this upon ladies--especially very young
ones--because they usually select their horses (as they do their
husbands!) for appearance more than for genuine worth. It is such a
perfectly natural weakness that nobody can be blamed for it. Everybody
likes “something to look at,” but there is more than this to be desired
in many respects. I remember either reading somewhere, or hearing
somebody say, that a hunter that combined high courage with so fine a
temper that he would stand while his owner opened gates or remounted
him after a fall--one that liked his trade, cried “Ha, ha!” at the
sound of the huntsman’s horn, went generously at his fences as if he
relished them, picked his places sensibly, had a good constitution,
drank his gruel freely after the day’s work was over, would stand two
ordinary days a week, and three good ones along with them in the course
of a fortnight--was a treasure, even though he might have an ugly head,
a ridiculous tail, an unfashionable colour, corns at times, and many
skin-deep blemishes. In addition to all this, I may add that if he is a
fairly good hack, and can trot or jog his ten or twelve miles home to
his stable after a hardish day, he is simply an invaluable acquisition,
especially to those who love sport, yet have not the good fortune to
possess a sporting income.
It is rarely, however, that one is lucky enough to meet with so
entirely desirable an animal, and _when_ found he certainly ought to be
prized.
The essential points for a hunter are these: a good constitution, so
that he may bear hardships and hard knocks; good powers of endurance,
to enable him to stand long and tiresome days, and frequently to travel
lengthy distances homewards; good shoulders, and strong healthy legs
and feet. Further good points are, a back powerful enough to bear any
weight that he is meant to carry; hind quarters with propelling powers
to land him safely over his fences; a good chest, with lungs inside of
it sufficiently sound to allow of his galloping without showing signs
of distress; and good eyes to enable him to see where he is going.
[Illustration: STRAIGHT FORE LEGS.]
[Illustration: VERY DEFECTIVE.]
Straight fore-legs, such as are shown in the illustration, are an
absolutely essential quality--and they should emerge from the trunk
with plenty of firm muscle as well as good fleshy substance. Legs that
are too close together, or too far apart, are alike defective, and
ought not to be overlooked.
[Illustration: TOO FAR APART.]
A hunter for a lady’s use need not, as a rule, be over fifteen hands
in height, or about 15·2 for a man of ordinary stature. Of course
top-weights of either sex must have something proportionately big to
carry them, but my experience is that clever hunters of 15·2 or 3 can
negotiate even the biggest country with safety, and I believe there are
a greater number of perfect fencers of that height than can be found
among those above it. Small horses, whether hunters or steeplechasers,
have distinguished themselves brilliantly from time to time all over
the world, yet the rage for tall ones is very great. About ten years
ago, at the Islington Horse Show, there were forty hunters (out of
100 entries) that were over 16 hands high, and they were among the
very first sold, some of them to extremely diminutive purchasers. I
was speaking about this a year or two ago to a dealer, and asking him
his opinion respecting the cause, when he made me laugh by answering,
“Well, you see, big horses makes big fences look a trifle smaller, and
that’s something to them as rides.”
I have always considered it a good plan to select a hunter, with due
regard to the country in which his purchaser intends to hunt. For
example, if hilly, or composed of wide grass lands, or plough, good
breeding will be decidedly essential, because with it good staying
powers will be combined; if trappy, or difficult, requiring constant
pulling up at fences and careful getting over, extreme cleverness will
be far more valuable than blood. Even a broken-winded horse will, if
cautious and clever, be more useful over such a country, than a flyer
or very flippant jumper--because he can catch his wind between his
efforts, and will not be likely to exhibit distress.
If you cannot count upon a horse’s pedigree, when looking for a blood
one, you can generally judge him by his haunch. I think it an excellent
test of breeding. A well-bred haunch and handsomely carried tail,
impart a dignity of appearance which is unmistakable, and they are
certainly far in advance of the rounded quarter and drooping caudal
appendage which my sketch on the succeeding page represent.
Still further commendable points in a hunter are _long_ shoulders, high
withers, broad hips, and loose flanks: this latter in order (as I have
heard it expressed) that he may “dash” his haunches under him at the
big jumps. He should have good shoulder action, but it matters little
(as I have said) about that of the knees.
[Illustration: WELL-BRED HAUNCH.]
[Illustration: ILL-BRED HAUNCH.]
A hunter is thought to be in his prime at six years old, and if this
be the case, every hunter in the kingdom--especially those with which
dealers have anything to do--must be just arrived at that happy
meridian, for surely no one has ever yet inquired the age of such an
animal without being told that he was “just six year old,” or “rising”
it. I have known some admirable hunters, however, who had passed the
familiar landmark by four years or upwards; and in the west of Ireland
I saw one, and rode him too, who was said to be eighteen years old, and
certainly a finer fencer it has rarely been my lot to handle.
I do not, however, as a rule, recommend young horsewomen to purchase
aged hunters. I have generally found them to be too crafty and clever,
calculating their distances _too_ finely, and leaving themselves
nothing at all to spare. Better mount a young rider on a young,
generous goer, who will give himself a couple of feet or more over the
mark.
Never judge of a hunter from seeing him jump in cold blood, because
many animals that will perform calmly and collectedly over a
schooling-ground, become so tremendously excited in the hunting-field
that they are altogether beyond the powers of a lady to control. I need
not say that horses of this class are not only unpleasant, but are
highly dangerous mounts.
I always advise ladies who have invested in anything that they find
disappointing--either a rusher, refuser, plunger, or anything else--to
entrust him at once to thoroughly competent hands to break him of the
vice. I believe largely in horse-dealing farmers of the straight-riding
sort. A horse given up to one of these will be exercised about the
lands through the summer months, taught to get slowly through gaps and
over difficult fences, made to stand quietly to be mounted, and ridden
temperately but with determination when hounds begin to run.
A hunter that pulls should never be made use of by a lady, but for my
own riding I have always preferred an animal that gave me something to
do to hold him, to one that stuck his head in the air and refused to
take hold of his bridle. I don’t know anything that renders a lady
more helpless in a quick run than a horse that is too light-mouthed,
and that flings his head up every time he feels the action of the bit.
I would not take a present of such a one for my own use.
It is an excellent plan for ladies to train their hunters to follow
them when on foot. Suppose that in the course of a run you happen to
come to some awfully cranky place: cramped, difficult, and highly
dangerous to ride, you may find it pleasant and advisable to get off
and scramble it, and your steed will follow you beautifully if you
have him trained. It is quite easy to do it; accustom him to the tone
of your voice, and if in the country take him out on summer evenings
with a leading-rein and a pocketful of carrots. You will not have much
difficulty after a while, and it is quite worth the trouble, even if
you are disposed to think it such, which I never did.
There used long ago to be certain counties celebrated for good hunters.
Ireland was, and is, _justly_ famous, both for breeding and training
youngsters of a style fit for any hunting-field: but posts, telegraphs,
and telephones have placed us far more on a level than we used to be,
and I don’t believe that there is now anything like the advantage
enjoyed by our fathers and grandfathers in purchasing direct from a
breeder.
I may wind up by saying that no horse is worthy of being called a
hunter that cannot be turned in a very small circle, that jumps with
his hind-legs stretched out behind him, or that won’t at all events
_attempt_ any fence at which his owner may wish to turn him.
[Illustration: “COME ALONG, OLD MAN!”
_page 216._]